Minor Mistakes in Metropolis
by Angelus1
Summary: Chloe said she found Clark. She neglected to mention, however, exactly what happened when she found him.


Title: Minor Mistakes in Metropolis  
  
Author: Angelus  
  
E-mail: angelus1317@hotmail.com (Please put "Minor Mistakes in Metropolis" on the subject line.)  
  
Subject: Smallville  
  
Category: CCR, A  
  
Rating: PG-13 (implied sex)  
  
Summary: Chloe said she found Clark. She neglected to mention, however, exactly what happened when she found him.  
  
Spoilers: The season premiere, whatever it was called.  
  
Archive: Anywhere, just ask me first.  
  
Disclaimer: Yeah, right, sure I own 'em. In my dreams. Clark, Chloe, Lana, etc, and any other characters mentioned here are the property of WGN, and I'm not sure who else. No copyright infringement is intended, though.  
  
Author's notes: A more mature Smallville than the show. I think it's a pretty good attempt.   
  
Dedication: To Nikki, Miranda, and Allison, for fun in Consumer Ed.  
  
~*~  
  
Over the past few weeks, Chloe Sullivan had realized just how much she had missed Metropolis. She had almost forgotten how much she loved the city that she had grown up in. Who'd have ever guessed that she would be seduced by the small-town life?   
  
Back in Metropolis, high school had been fun, of course, but the sheer size of the school had pretty much prevented anyone from making a name for themselves. In Smallville, however, people knew who she was. When she wrote an article for the Torch, people congratulated her. She wasn't just a name and a number in the eyes of the school system - she was a *person*. And not just in the school - in the town. She had to admit, she liked walking down the streets and having everyone know her name. She liked that if she ever needed to find one of her friends, there were only a few places to look. She loved that moving in with her best friend meant an actual house, with her own bed, instead of on a pullout sofa in a cramped apartment. She loved that the town was less of the hurried bustle - it was slower, but more alive; brighter, somehow, than the steel-and-concrete, gray-smog city. Lately, however...The whole town seemed dead after the loss of both Clark and Lex. And as for her surrogate sister....  
  
Lana Lang was a wreck. She slept, she moped, and she didn't do a whole lot else. She didn't eat, she didn't talk. She'd immersed herself in the Talon, working twenty-hour days without breaks. At home, she showered, threw herself into bed, and didn't say a word. Sometimes she slept. But sometimes, when Chloe awoke in the middle of the night for some inexplicable reason, she would look over to the other twin bed in her room. Through the moonlight streaming through her bedroom window, she would see Lana, sitting upright, tears streaming down her face as she silently cried.  
  
This had been going on for close to a month now - ever since Clark had mysteriously disappeared. Part of Chloe felt guilty for being gone so much; for not being a good friend. But the other part of her just couldn't be around the other girl. Because if she had to witness the full extent of how much Clark's absence was tearing Lana Lang up inside, she might have to admit that she truly loved him. And if she acknowledged that Lana loved Clark, she would be left to wonder if he loved her in return. And *that* would tear *her* up inside.  
  
So when some of her new friends - other Daily Planet interns - offered to take her clubbing with them, she eagerly accepted. She cast a silent Lana one look before she left.  
  
Her friends at school would probably never peg Chloe as a party girl, but the truth was she loved clubbing. That was what her whole weekends had always been about back in Metropolis. She liked the noise, the loud music... the million sweaty bodies packed into one tiny space dancing as if they hadn't a care in the world. As soon as she, Nikki, Miranda, and Allison entered Atlantis, they headed for the bar. All four girls downed a few shots of Tequila and hit the floor.  
  
This was where the allure of clubbing came in. For once Chloe started dancing, she could ignore the world around her; forget about her problems for as long as the disco lights and pounding bass beat allowed her. She danced as if she had never gotten herself entangled with Lionel Luthor; as if his son and best friend hadn't gone missing; as if Smallville was still the calm and quiet little town she'd been dragged to all those years ago; as if Lana was still her best friend and surrogate sister.  
  
She danced as if she had never fallen in love with Clark Kent.   
  
When a pair of strong, muscular arms encircled her from behind, Chloe didn't protest. She just danced. She bumped and ground with this stranger for three straight songs. But when he didn't move on to find another partner, Chloe got curious. So she turned around.  
  
And found herself staring into the brilliant blue eyes of the very man she had come here to forget.  
  
When he saw that she recognized him, Clark grinned. But it wasn't his traditional, goofy farmboy grin - there was something more lurking there, just below the surface. He tightened his grip on her waist and drew her forward, leaning in to murmur in her ear.  
  
"Having fun, Chloe?" he asked. She tried to pull back, but his grip was like steel.  
  
"Clark, what are you doing here?!" she exclaimed. He chuckled, his warm breath tickling her cheek. Damn him - he was doing what he'd always unintentionally done - invading her personal space; catching her off guard. Damn him for having this effect on her.  
  
"I'm living life," he informed her. At her look, he chuckled again. "What?" he prodded. "Think I should be back in Smallville, doing farm labor for no pay?"  
  
"Clark, your parents are losing that farm," Chloe countered. "They need you." His eyes darkened and his grip tightened painfully for just a second before he released her.  
  
"Watch how much I care," he spat, spinning on his heel and walking away. But as crowded as Atlantis was this time of night, he didn't get very far before Chloe was grabbing his forearm and spinning him back around to face her.  
  
"What now?" he asked. "Are you going to play the Lana card? Tell me how the damsel in distress has been helpless without her shining knight to come rescue her?"  
  
Before Clark had spoken those words, Chloe hadn't had a clue what she was going to do when she caught up with him - all she knew was that she couldn't let him walk out of her life. Again. That's what had made her grab him. But what she had done next...  
  
She blamed it on the blatant mention of Lana, and some bad decision-making on her part, but also on the fact that he was, once again, standing far too close, with his sparkling, taunting eyes and moist, parted lips...  
  
She kissed him.  
  
And to her shock, he kissed her back. With the music still blaring and the throng of people still milling around them, he hauled her roughly against him, his hands wandering to places that her logical mind told her they *really* shouldn't be, for a million different reasons. But the problem was, her logical mind just didn't have the willpower to make her pull away or stop him. Because this was, after all, Clark Kent. And even Chloe wasn't strong enough to deny that he had always been her weak spot. Half of her brain told her that there was something seriously wrong here - that this wasn't the Clark she knew and loved. Deep down inside of herself, she knew it was true. But it was that pesky other half of her brain that was giving her problems - the one that had decided that this just felt too damn good to bother resisting.  
  
As their embrace grew more heated, more intimate, Chloe felt herself being guided gently backwards. She didn't know where he was taking her, but she didn't ask - she put her trust in his hands. Because whatever was going on with him, somewhere deep inside he was still Clark, who would never hurt her - or anyone, for that matter.  
  
The rational part of Chloe's brain had obviously shut down for the night, due to the alcohol in her bloodstream and *this*.  
  
Her friends would be wondering where she was, Chloe thought idly as Clark steered her down a dimly-lit hallway. Not that she cared. More that she was surprised that a though could actually penetrate the haze surrounding her brain.  
  
The next thing she knew, she was in a dark and unfamiliar room, her legs wrapped around Clark's waist. She didn't care where she was; all she cared about was that there was a bed over there in the corner, and that Clark's erection was poking against her thigh. Letting loose a moan from deep within her throat, Chloe collapsed onto the bed on top of Clark. His hands groped at her hips, grinding her against him.  
  
"Clark," she gasped. At that, his name, his eyes flew open, glaring at her. With a fierceness and savagery that Chloe wouldn't have thought possible, he flipped her over so that he was now on top; in control. He yanked her wrists above her head and pinned them to the mattress.  
  
"Don't talk," he commanded as he bent his head forward to kiss her hard on the mouth.  
  
She didn't talk - after that, her mouth was never left devoid of him until he collapsed on top of her, hours later, finally spent. Chloe couldn't help herself - she fell asleep as well, right there next to Clark, his leg slung carelessly over hers.  
  
~*~  
  
When Chloe awoke, her surroundings were unfamiliar. She wasn't a morning person at all, so it took a few minutes for the events of the previous nights to sink in.  
  
When they did, she felt sick to her stomach.  
  
Sitting up, Chloe cast a glance around the dingy little black room of the club. The walls were peeling, the floor was sticky and covered with unidentifiable stains, and the mattress...suffice to say she would be glad to get out of here without a rash.   
  
Clark was nowhere to be found.  
  
Groaning, Chloe clutched the sheets to her bare breasts with one hand as she massaged her temples with the other. She had a long day ahead of her. First, she had to convince her boss she was sick, because there was *no* way she was going in today. Then she had to field all the questions Nikki, Miranda, and Allison no doubt had. Then she had to make up something to tell her dad. Then she had to be in her room with Lana and pretend like none of this had happened.  
  
All while trying to stop herself from going crazy.  
  
Muttering curses under her breath, Chloe got dressed as quickly as she could. He clothes were strewn everywhere, and she grimaced as she realized they had touched the disgusting floor, and now she had to put them back on her body. Which had spent the whole night between that mattress and those sheets.  
  
"I need a shower," Chloe muttered. She was finally dressed, minus her bra, which she couldn't seem to find anywhere. She had her purse, her wallet and phone inside, her car keys in her hand, her shoes on her feet...she was ready to get out of here.  
  
The club was dark when Chloe exited the back room, but she found the door and made her way through it. Outside, the sun nearly blinded her. Blinking, she stumbled to her car. The little silver Jetta looked lost and lonely in the deserted parking lot.  
  
Sitting in the driver's seat, Chloe felt a bit more relaxed - more in control. She slid the keys in the ignition and breathed a sigh of relief as the car sputtered to life. It would have just figured if she had had engine trouble and had been stuck here in this nightmare.  
  
Sleeping with Clark wasn't the problem - she had been waiting for that for years. Rather, it was that she had let him manipulate her into sleeping with him that had her so upset - and that she had *let* him manipulate her.  
  
She had searched all over Metropolis for Clark - and other places, too, until she had come to the realization that if he didn't want to be found, then seeking him out was not the way to go about bringing him back. When she had found him accidentally, she hadn't found Clark - she had found the man trying to forget that he was Clark. Clark was her friend - whatever had gone on between him and her, him and Lana, at the end of the day, he was still her friend. He was still Clark Kent, who naively believed he could fix everything.  
  
That Clark was dead now - buried under fancy cars and selfish denial and layers of subterfuge a mile thick, and what was *really* making Chloe so frustrated was that she hadn't seen it. Or rather, she hadn't *let* herself see it; hadn't let herself see that her Clark Kent - the one she was trying so desperately to get back to - would never in a million years even *consider* sleeping with her for no other reason than to make her go away.  
  
She could still feel his body against hers; his mouth on her neck, her ear...swearing under her breath, Chloe pulled out of the parking lot.  
  
This was what she hated the most - that she had finally had Clark Kent all to herself, but that she couldn't allow herself to be happy about it. For the rest of her life, the memory of her first - only? - encounter with Clark would be tainted by what he had become. She had to stop herself every time the memory crossed her mind, because no matter how earth-shattering it had felt, it was never meant to happen.  
  
Chloe was halfway home before it occurred to her to pull her cell phone out of her purse and check her messages. There were six - one from an unfamiliar number, and five from her father. She grimaced. Better to deal with that little bit of unpleasantness later. She selected the unfamiliar number and pressed the phone to her ear.  
  
It was from Clark.  
  
"You're lucky you found me," he taunted. "You won't be so lucky next time - if you come looking for me again, I could be halfway across the world before you reached my doorstep. Remember last night - it'll be the last you'll ever see of me."  
  
It was then that Chloe began to cry. 


End file.
